Happy Birthday, Legacies!
When Losses Become Legacies turns two, and we're celebrating with reader reviews and a giveaway — because your words help others discover the book.
Read moreWhen Losses Become Legacies turns two, and we're celebrating with reader reviews and a giveaway — because your words help others discover the book.
Read moreTen years after losing my brother Jim, I share the essay I wrote about him — a story woven through Durer's Praying Hands, our mother's legacy, and the mysterious power of prayer in the face of unbearable loss.
Read morePhilip Yancey and Nicholas Wolterstorff have grappled with grief in ways that illuminate the path for the rest of us — reminding us that God doesn't explain our suffering so much as share it.
Read moreBook reviews are manna for authors and readers alike. This final giveaway invites you to win a copy of Legacies, read it, and share what you think.
Read moreViktor Frankl taught that meaning is the primary force driving human life. In a culture drowning in division and despair, the search for logos — for meaning rooted in something eternal — has never mattered more.
Read moreCan you name the man in the picture and his connection to When Losses Become Legacies? This week's anniversary giveaway puts your knowledge to the test.
Read moreIn one sentence, capture the woman who shaped you. This Mother's Day giveaway invites readers to honor their moms — whether here or on the other side of time.
Read moreTo celebrate one year of When Losses Become Legacies, my co-author and I are hosting three weeks of book giveaways centered on honoring moms, art, and the power of reader reviews.
Read moreOn the morning of September 11, I was a Washingtonian living ten minutes from the Pentagon. The crystalline blue sky that day became illustrative of humanity's starkest contrasts.
Read moreA year after my dad's passing, I discovered old Army photos of a well-dressed dandy I barely recognized — and came to see the cool guy he was before parenthood shaped him into the alpha-male who built tank engines and made chicken soup.
Read moreAfter losing my mom to cancer and my brother to suicide, my dad's death surprised me with something unfamiliar: uncomplicated grief — in many ways, sweet.
Read moreMy dad's heart failed last month. In crafting his obituary for our twice-blended family, I honored the full, complex life of a Greek immigrant's son who served his country, raised his children, and never lost his love of donuts.
Read moreLosing a baby is a tragedy that demands to be addressed. Grief is a lifelong process, but we have an amazing capacity for healing — to get stronger, rebuild, and help others along the way.
Read moreShe was 46. He was 47. They both left the floor before the music stopped — but I dance on, inspired by my mother's resilience and my brother's strong character.
Read moreWatching friends send their children to college stirs a grief I didn't expect — mourning not just my mother, but the tears she never got to cry for me.
Read moreMotherless mothering is its own wilderness. Without my mom's roadmap, I've had to define motherhood for myself — and teach my children about a grandmother they'll never know.
Read moreSorrow isn't the enemy of joy — it's joy's fraternal twin. After my brother's suicide, I'm learning how to grieve well and live fully.
Read moreStigma chases those who've attempted suicide, those who grieve them, and even the professionals who treat them. Changing this starts with raising our voices.
Read moreA vivid dream of a lion, a psalm about protection, and a song called 'You Are, I Am' — God was speaking, even when I thought he wasn't listening.
Read moreThe holidays after a suicide are a bitter cocktail of grief and expectation. Acting as if nothing happened doesn't help — but showing up does.
Read moreLosing my mom as a teenager gave me coping skills I never expected to need again — until my brother took his life.
Read moreMy brother was my protector, my surrogate mom, my best friend. In his dying words, he entrusted me with the story of his broken heart.
Read moreLosing my brother to suicide tested my faith in ways I never imagined, but God is drawing glory from the mire — even when I can't see how.
Read moreForgiveness after a suicide isn't forgetting — it's releasing the hurt to God, who can build something lovely from the ashes.
Read moreMy brother lost himself in a marriage that defined him, and the lies of worthlessness overwhelmed a man who never stopped extending grace.
Read moreThe guilt that stalks after a loved one's suicide is relentless — but in the space between sadness and hope, I'm learning to let light return.
Read morePostpartum depression, mother loss, my brother's suicide — life's most tragic stories aren't without beauty. Somehow, hardship makes joy sweeter, and redemption lurks in the mire.
Read moreCalling suicide selfish is ignorant and hurtful. My brother was in extreme pain, and he believed his children would suffer less without him. That is not cowardice — it is a desperate, human response to unbearable agony.
Read moreSince Jim died, I've been unwrapping 39 years of memories like gifts without a shelf life. Losing my mom was an unusual gift too — the space she left was filled by the siblings I came to know and love more deeply.
Read moreHearing the story of a young mother dying from breast cancer stirred my deepest fear: that my motherless history could repeat itself, and my babies would navigate this world without me.
Read moreClimbing Pikes Peak taught me something about growing up motherless: it's harder to breathe in rarefied air, but the thin atmosphere makes it easier to hear God's voice.
Read moreA childhood autograph book revealed my mother's unwavering faith — a faith forged through abuse, abandonment, and loss that she passed to me like a torch before she died.
Read moreI finally learned the gender of the baby I lost between my two children — a girl. Naming her Lena Karen gave her a wholeness that grief alone could never provide.
Read moreOn my son's third birthday, I returned to the Chicago neighborhood where he was born and reflected on how motherhood dismantled my old life — and slowly built a new one.
Read moreLosing my mother at 15 left a grief I carried into every milestone. Becoming a mother myself reopened the wound — and, unexpectedly, began to heal it.
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